


Unexpectables Unite!

by EndlessDreamer7



Series: Sun Siege [1]
Category: The Unexpectables (Podcast)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 10:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessDreamer7/pseuds/EndlessDreamer7
Summary: The plan to retake the land and the city of Alivast from the hands of the United Clergy of Orun, or as they like to call themselves in the current time, The Holy Orun Empire, is finally underway, after nearly a decade or two of waiting! It all hinges on launching a surprise attack on the city during the 15th annual Dawn Day celebration, in the hopes of cutting off the head of the snake, Ragis Cade, but in order to do this, the Unexpectables, Task the Kobold Ranger, Borky the Orc Barbarian, Panic Grimtongue the Tiefling Bard, Greckles Birdman the Kenku Rogue, and their long-lost friend, Remy, have been given the mission of infiltrating the city and then laying low for at least a week, without the use of most of their magic or magical items. It shouldn't be that hard, should it?
Series: Sun Siege [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848418





	Unexpectables Unite!

Though the city of Alivast had been destroyed and rebuilt many times, though it had been laid siege and the invaders had won, though the city had undergone many massive makeovers since then, growing and expanding, buildings and other structures starting to stretch ever upwards into the sky, Tent Town had remained. For those awaiting entry into the city, coming from far off and distant lands, Tent Town was their new home, their world, the start of a new life.  


It was but a week or so before the festival, the 15th annual celebration of the day that the Champion of Orun, Icarus, had slain Balfour Bolton, the Bloody Butcher, putting an end to his reign of terror, which had plagued Paraton for nearly 3 years.  


As it had been every year since the celebration had been started, people flocked in from all over to take part in the festivities, which were open to pretty much everybody, provided they had the right documentation, and everything. However, once the festivities were over, those individuals who had gained access to the city during said time without being citizens beforehand were promptly removed unless they had managed to find some work or place of housing or something. Though zealousness was nice and all, many were the people who kicked and screamed and put up a fight at the notion of leaving the holy city, and there were just as many who simply found loathsome the thought of returning home.  


Thankfully, some changes had been made, for the better, some people agreed, although many others did not. Among some of these changes had been that anybody carrying weapons was not to enter the city, nor would most magic and magical items be tolerated. The list of changes had been sent out some time beforehand so that everybody would be aware and could prepare properly.  


Somewhat understandably, this list of changes had been met with no small amount of outcry and resistance, which had been quelled quickly, although many still harbored feelings.  


Due to said restrictions and changes and such, it had come as no surprise that attendance was lower than usual. While many were disappointed and saddened so far by the meager turnout, hoping and praying to Orun that many more people would show up as the day grew closer, many others, namely the guards and scribes, were ecstatic at not having to deal with as many people and paperwork.  


They still had to do their jobs though, but some had become a bit more lax.  


“This is never going to fucking work.” Task said, watching the lone guard on patrol, the rest having left to go get drunk, or to get some sleep, or whatever else they were doing.  


“You don’t know that.” Borky replied.  


“Do you?” Panic chimed in.  


“If we all have our paperwork, stories, and disguises straight, I think we should be fine.” Remy said.  


“I don’t know about your guys’ disguises, especially Borky’s, but mine is perfect.” Greckles said.  


“Shut up, Greckles, nobody cares.” Borky said.  


“I swear, if we fucking die, I am going to strangle Solly.” Task said.

Some time ago….  


“You want us to infiltrate the city?” Remy asked.  


“That is what I just said, yes.” Solly responded.  


“Why?” Borky was the first one to ask.  


“We’ve been laying low and taking pot shots at them nearly this entire time, which has accomplished jack shit.” Brorc added.  


“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but that’s just me.” Greckles muttered.  


“And with how many shitstorms are looming on the horizon, we can’t afford to do that anymore.” Hammergnar said.  


“How will taking back Alivast help us do that?” Panic asked.  


“Well, it’ll give us a few less problems to deal with. Besides, I think everybody can agree that as nice as it’s sometimes been down here in the Underdark, there’s no place like home.” Solly said.  


“Why us though?” Task asked.  


They all smiled at them. “Because nobody expects-“  


“-The Unexpectables, yeah, we get it, we get it. Now then, what do we need to do?” Borky interrupted.  


“First up, you’ll need some new clothes.”

Due to how amazing their natural silk was, as long as you ignored where it came from, many Driders and Drow had taken up sewing, and they made the most durable, fashionable and expensive clothes one would ever find. Thankfully, with the fact that Alivast’s economy was shifting back to how it had been before there was a excess of gold and other precious metals, gems, and materials, courtesy of the Underdark, as well as the fact that the Council was footing the bill, the Unexpectables were getting some nice new duds.  


“Hey, Remy?” Borky asked, as he tried on more clothes.  


“Hmm, what is it, Borky?” Remy asked, doing the same.  


“You seem in a better mood lately, even though by all accounts, you really shouldn’t be!”  


“And?”  


“Oh, you know, just wondering how that happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”  


“I met somebody.”  


“Ooo, do tell, do tell, but don’t tell Greckles, or maybe do, considering that your relationship has hit quite the snag, I would say.”  


“Not like that!”  


“Then, what was it?”  


“They reminded me of something I had long forgotten.”  


“What was that?”  


“My family’s motto: Never Die Easy.”  


“Oh, that’s a nice one.”  


“Does your family have one?”  


“I don’t know, and I’m fine with that!”  


“Right.”  


“Sonnuva, come on!” Panic strained.  


“The Belt of Dwarvenkind isn’t cursed, Panic, it just needs to-“ Borky began to say.  


“-Be adjusted! I know, I know.” There was a sound, and Panic cursed. “Fuck you, it’s definitely cursed!”  


“What makes you say that?”  


“The belt buckle just broke off!”  


Borky snickered a bit and then walked out. “So, what do you guys think?” He was wearing a ram skull on his head as a helmet, a wolf pelt as a cape and cloak with a wolf head resting over one of his shoulders, while the other shoulder had his normal pauldron on it, with a lion head lovingly donated by Panic impaled on top of it. “I’m gonna be honest. I really like it.”  


Remy walked out in his usual attire, although it had been cleaned up quite a lot and was now purple instead of a grimy brown or black or other dull color, nearly a match for how he had looked back in the day. “You do realize we’re supposed to be undercover right?”  


“Don’t worry, I got that part figured out!” Borky took out a fake mustache and put it on his face. “Now everybody will think I’m Mustached Borky and not the real Borky!”  


“One, that’s incredibly stupid and will never work in a million years, and 2, do you really think it’s a good idea to have a lion head impaled on your pauldron in a place that worships lions?” Greckles pointed out, still changing, but sneaking a peek.  


“You just wait, Greckles.” Borky said.  


“Hey, guys, has anybody seen Borky?” Scarbles asked, walking into the room.  


“No, I, Mustached Borky, have not seen the extraordinarily handsome and intelligent Borky the Orcy.” Borky lied.  


“Ok, cool. If you see him, tell him he’s out of cheese, completely out.” And with that, Scarbles left.  


“See?” Borky said.  


“Doesn’t count.” Greckles said.  


“Yes, it does!”  


Panic walked out in the most stereotypical bard and or minstrel outfit one could conceive of, the garish colors painful to even look at. “One word and several Shatters will be localized entirely around your junk.”  


“You think you have it bad?” Task said, opening up to reveal himself in a child’s sailor outfit. “I think the worst part is the fact that I have to wear pants.”  


“Aww, I’m gonna get diabetes from how adorable you are.” Scarlet joked, pulling her finger back, just in time to avoid, having it bitten by Task.  


“Laugh it up! There’s no way in hell anybody will think that I’m a Dragonborn kid!”  


“I mean, I did.” Scarlet said.  


“Yeah, but you were like 12-13 at the time.”  


“And what does that have to do with anything?”  


“Couldn’t we have just used items that magically disguise us or you know illusions?”  


“No can do, Task. They’re checking people for those, and besides, you do know what the former is made of, right?” Solly said.  


“Ugh, fine, at least I have my spear bow.”  


“About that.” Scarbles said, walking back in with Winter and a few guards.  


Task immediately grabbed hold of his spear bow and ran into one of the changing rooms, locking it behind him. “No, you can put me in this stupid outfit and you can even put me in pants, but you can’t take away my spear bow! I won’t let you!”  


After nearly a half hour and lots of screaming and injured guards, Task and his spear bow were finally separated. “No, no, please, where are you taking it?! No, please!” Task wailed.  


“Calm the fuck down, Task, I’ll sneak it back to you along with the others’ stuff in a few days once you’ve managed to get yourselves set up in the city!” Scarbles promised.  


“Couldn’t you just sneak us in instead?” Task asked.  


“Look, I’m only one woman with an army of rats, I can only do so much, and sneaking you 5 into the city is no longer one of those things, but your weapons and gear? Yeah, I can do that.”  


“But, we’ll be defenseless!” Task pointed out.  


“I mean, I can just deck and suplex people no problem.” Borky said.  


“I can also just summon my things back to me in an instant, so I’m good.” Remy said.  


“I’m not that good with weapons, because my voice and mind itself are greater than any sword or spear-“ Panic began to say.  


“And lightning javelin?” Borky interrupted.  


“Fuck you.”  


“What about Greckles?” Task asked  


“I get to keep most of my shit.” Greckles answered.  


“What, why?”  


“Because I’m hiding my stuff where nobody will ever find it.”  


“In your butt right? You’re hiding your daggers and knives and stuff up your butt.” Borky suggested.  


“No, I am not hiding it up my butt, Borky.”  


“That’s what you would say if you were hiding stuff up your butt!”  


“How would you like a dagger up yours?!” Greckles retorted.  


“Not that much, no thank you.”  


“That’s what I thought, now-” the door to Greckles’ changing room finally swung open and he stepped out, “I used my very best disguise kit, so what do you think?”

“Excuse me, monsieur.” Remy, who was disguised as a rather bland, middle aged nobleman, courtesy of an incredible amount of makeup, said to the guard on duty.  


“Hmm, yes, what is it? I assume that you have come for the Day of Dawn celebration, right?” The guard asked.  


“Uh, yes, myself and my traveling companions have come a very long way to take part in the festivities. Here is my paperwork. I believe that everything should be in order.” Remy said, as he handed the guard a stack of documents.  


The guard took the papers, flipped and skimmed through them, not even bothering to look that long at them, before handing them back to Remy.  
“You can go on ahead, Sir Ocsob Drawde, enjoy the celebration. May Orun’s light be with you.”  


“Thank you, monsieur, and you as well.” Remy said, nodding in thanks, before hurrying past him into the city and turning around to look at the others.  


Panic stepped up, disguised as a human bard, wearing the tackiest bard clothes in the world and handed over his papers. “Hello there, monsieur, I am Vergil Vaethryus.”  


“Hold on, that accent, are you from Tracadia, by chance?” The Guard asked.  


“Uh, yes, I’m afraid. If you’ll forgive me asking, why do you want to know that?” Panic asked, nervous.  


“Oh, don’t worry, my friend, it’s just that my wife’s family came from Tracadia!”  


“Oh, really, what part?”  


“Southern Tracadia, but they moved out some time after she was born. What part are you from?”  


“Northern Tracadia, near the mountains.”  


“Ah, good, at least you’re not from the east-“ the guard began to say.  


“Or else you would’ve had to check me for bite marks, right?” Panic joked and the guard chuckled.  


“Yes, that I would have and believe me, I have found a few bite marks on people over the years. Nearly gotten some of my own from them as well.”  


Borky, disguised as literally himself, but with a mustache, scoffed. “Ugh, Tracadia, what a completely godless place.”  


“On that, monsieur, I would have to agree, especially as of late, what with the entire land being covered in absolute darkness and night. All those poor souls out from Orun’s light, such a shame.” The Guard said, shaking his head. “You can go and enjoy the festivities, Monsieur Vaethryus. May Orun’s light be with you.”  


“Thank you, monsieur.” Panic said, before starting to walk off.  


“Hold on, Monsieur Vaethryus.” The Guard suddenly said, stopping Panic, whose entire face had started to break out in nervous sweat.  


“Uh, yes, monsieur, is something wrong?” Panic asked, incredibly nervous.  


“You are a bard, no?”  


Panic looked down at the garb he was wearing and cursed in his head. “Why, yes, what gave me away, the clothes, the lute?”  


“Oh, I didn’t even notice you played the lute! Forgive me, it can get a bit hard to see in my helm! One moment.” The Guard took off his helm, tucking it under his shoulder, to reveal the fairly handsome face of an elf of indeterminate age, with long, luscious locks of brown hair, down to his shoulders. “There, that’s better. That should also help me hear whatever song you play.”  


“I’m sorry, what?” Panic asked.  


“Oh, Uh, forgive me, I was hoping that you would play me a song. It doesn’t have to be anything special or long, just a little something, you know?” The Guard asked.  


Panic gulped and remembered what he had been told by Hammergnar before they left.

They had all started to assemble in a little room with a teleportation circle on the floor, which would send them to the outskirts of the city, where they hopefully wouldn’t be seen by anybody.  


Borky was adjusting his mustache and practicing his lines. “I am Mustached Borky! I am Mustached Borky! I am Mustached Borky?”  


Remy was sighing and shaking his head like usual, while Greckles was staying far away from him after what had recently happened, and was continuing to make sure that his disguise was perfect. Task meanwhile was talking to Tarusk’s egg, which he had drawn a goofy face on.  


“Ok, Tarusk, I should only be gone for a week or so, maybe longer if I end up DYING BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE MY SPEAR BOW!!!” Task suddenly yelled, glaring at Scarbles while she whistled and stuffed all their gear together into a large potato sack.  


Task turned back to Tarusk. “Oh, don’t look at me like that or else I’m gonna-gonna-oh come here, you!” Task hugged Tarusk’s egg.  


Panic knew that Task could get pretty crazy and wild sometimes, and often talked to Tarusk’s egg, but he had never drawn a face on it before and kissed it. He really liked that spear bow, didn’t he?  


“Hey, Panic, you mind if I talk to you for a sec?” Hammergnar suddenly asked.  


“Uh sure, what is it?”  


“Brorc and the rest wanted me to tell you that if anybody fucks up,” they both briefly shot a glance at Greckles, “you’re gonna have to bullshit like you’ve never bullshitted before.”  


“I’m a master of bullshit.”  


“Attaboy.”

“I am really, truly, terribly sorry, Monsieur, but I am afraid I cannot sing for you tonight.” Panic apologized.  


“Huh, why not?” The guard asked, confused.  


Panic scratched the side of his face. “I was informed some time ago that I was to play in the festivities and as such I would rather not do anything that would compromise that, such as straining my voice or accidentally breaking the strings on my instrument.” He lied.  


“Wow. Well then, I eagerly await your performance, my friend!” The Guard said.  


“Thank you very much, I am truly, terribly sorry.” Panic apologized once again, bowing.  


“It is fine, it is fine, as long as me and my wife get front row seats, no?”  


“I will see what I can do, Monsieur.”  


“That’s all I ask. Now then, onto y-“He looked down at Task, who looked exactly the same, except in an adorable sailor’s suit. “Is that a Kobold?”  


“Oh, forgive me, monsieur!” Panic said, racing back and picking Task up. “This is little Tarrask Ironoath, a Dragonborn.”  


“Oh, my apologies.”  


“He and his mother were on the same ship as us, but she ended up getting sick and passing.”  


“Oh no!” The guard gasped.  


Panic leaned in close to the guard. “I am not sure, but I think that he might have the same disease as what killed her, and I am afraid that if he does, he probably only has a week or so left to live, so these festivities might be, you know-“ Panic began to cry, while Task coughed pathetically, taking the hint.  


The guard bit his lip, and reached into his coin purse, in truth, a bag of holding. “Here then, little one, have a lollipop, and some money. Have some beignets on me. May Orun’s light be with you.”  


“And you as well.” Task said, in the most pathetic and childlike voice he could muster as Panic carried him into the city and then promptly dumped him on the ground, away from the eyes of the guard.  


“Huh, this disguise worked way better than I thought it would! I even got a lollipop and some money!” Task said, before thinking of something. “But what the fuck are beignets?”  


“Oh, trust me, Task, you’ll like them.” Remy said.  


“A-Are they meat?”  


“You’ll find out later.” Remy said, patting him on the head.  


“They better be real fucking good.”  


“Alright then, and you are-” The guard said, as Borky stepped up, the only semblance of a disguise being a mustache on his face.  


“Hello there, monster, I am Mustached Borky, who is definitely, definitely, in no way related to the incredibly handsome and intelligent, world-famous Suplexer of a 9 foot hag, Borky the Orcy, no siree.” Borky lied, smiling as big a smile as he could muster.  


“Go on through, Monsieur Mustached Borky, enjoy the festivities. May Orun’s light be with you.” The guard nonchalantly said, letting him through, not even batting an eye at his extremely poor disguise, the absurdity of which caused almost everybody’s jaws to nearly hit the floor, as Borky walked on through.  


“Told ya it would work.” Borky said.  


The guard turned back around after watching the 4 of them, who had immediately tried to act as casually and inconspicuously as they could, once they realized that he was watching, and began to look over Greckles’ paperwork. “Alright then, everything se-ORUN’S LIGHT, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE!!!” The guard suddenly screamed, dropping the paperwork as he looked up and saw Greckles’ face.  


“What do you me-”Greckles began to say, only to see his reflection in the guard’s armor, the disguise that he had spent many hours crafting and perfecting, was coming apart, making him look like a absolute freak and monster. “Oh shit.” Greckles muttered under his breath.  


Thankfully, before anything else could happen, Panic immediately came to the rescue. “I am so very sorry, monsieur, my friend here, Fletch, as you can plainly see, has, what many people would refer to as, a butterface, isn’t that right?”  


Greckles swallowed as much of his pride and dignity still remained over the years and spoke in as messed up and disgusting a voice as he could manage. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s true, monsieur, all my life, I have been cursed to have such hideous features as those you see in front of you.”  


“Oh, my apologies then for nearly assuming you were some sort of incredibly hideous monster.” the guard apologised.  


“It’s fine. You get used to it after a while.”  


“It is so incredibly sad that thanks to this incredibly horrible and hideous face of his, he’s never once been on a date.” Panic added, taking the opportunity not only to better strengthen the story, but also to insult Greckles as well.  


“Oh, then that must mean he is a virgin?” The guard said and Greckles sadly nodded. The guard picked Greckles’ paperwork back up to look at his age and cringed. “Oof.”  


Panic looked side to side and then leaned into the guard’s ear to whisper, although Greckles heard every word. “In truth, I think he’s here more for the Romansion than he is for the festivities.”  


“With that face? I don’t think there’s anybody desperate enough.” The guard replied, and Greckles clenched his fists tight, and willed himself not to stab either of them.  


The guard sighed, thrust his helm, his spear, and Greckles’ paperwork into Panic’s hands, and then placed his own hands on Greckles’ shoulder. “Do not worry, monsieur, I will pray for you so that one day, you may yet find that one special person who can look past all your incredible hideousness to see the true beauty that probably lies within.” The guard tried to reassure him.  


“Thank you, good monsieur, oh thank you.” Greckles sobbed, holding his head in his hands, playing it up as much as possible, while Panic escorted him away, having already handed the guard his helm and spear back.  


“Now go on, you 5, enjoy yourselves in the wonderful city of Alivast, while you still can! May Orun’s light be with you all!” The guard wished them, waving them farewell.  


“You’re welcome everybody.” Panic said, smiling proudly, his hands on his hips.  


“I mean, me and Remy were completely fine, but thanks anyway, I guess.” Borky said.  


“Fucking hot bullshit.” Greckles said. “I put hours and hours into my disguise, since I couldn’t use any magic or anything and it was perfect! I know it was! But, of fucking course, the makeup and everything just had to start blurring and running!”  


“With how concerned you were about your appearance, I’m surprised ya didn’t notice it sooner.” Borky said.  


“What? How long?!”  


Borky shrugged, causing Greckles to run over and try to strangle him, barely being held back by Panic.  


“If you had noticed that it was messed up earlier, why didn’t you say something? You nearly endangered our mission!” Greckles screamed, immediately causing heads to turn.  


“Yes, our holy mission, given to us by Orun himself!” Panic began to bullshit, stopping when he noticed that people had immediately turned back away, having heard the same old religious statements many times before. Panic immediately smacked Greckles on the back of his head. “Nice going, bird-brain. Aren’t you supposed to be a ninja or some shit?”  


“Oh, I’ll get you later for the whole thing back there.” Greckles said.  


“Oh, you mean, saving your ass? You’re welcome for that, by the way.”  


“Gentlemen, gentlemen, stop arguing, or else, we’ll attract attention that even Panic wouldn’t be able to bullshit out of.” Remy said, breaking them up.  


Greckles sighed. “That’s fair, that’s fair, I’m sorry. Thank you, Panic.”  


“No problem...butterface.”  


Greckles let out another sigh, mourning the loss of what dignity he had left.  


“You know, for somebody who’s probably a racist, mass-murdering zealot, that guy wasn’t all that bad.” Borky said.  


“Not everybody who’s part of the UCO is a complete scumbag, even the Paladins and Heralds.” Remy said.  


“Hmm, you know, we never caught that guy’s name.” Borky said, suddenly rushing back, everybody nearly having multiple heart attacks as he did so. “Hey, monster, I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but what’s your name?”  


The guard turned. “My name, why it’s-”The guard stopped, putting a finger to his lips. “Huh, I seem to have forgotten my name.”  


“Ah, don’t worry, it happens to the best of us.” Borky said.  


After a few moments where not only the others seriously debated killing Borky, but also the gods themselves, the guard gave his name. “Sorry about that, my mind was still occupied by how ugly your one friend was.”  


“Yeah, I know, happens to me all the time.”  


Greckles began to pull out a dagger, only for Remy to push his hand down, while Task tried to figure out if he could throw a lollipop hard enough to break Borky’s skull open, with Remy using his other hand to push Task’s down as well. “No.”  


“My name is Beauford Champione, a Herald of the Sun.” the guard said, introducing himself.  


“Ok, cool, thanks, bye.” Borky said, heading back to the others.  


“May Orun’s light be with you 5, especially the sick Dragonborn child and the butterface!” Beauford repeated, as loud as he could, drawing even more attention to them, which was both a bad thing and a good thing, as it let people know that Task was not a Kobold, despite how small and Kobold-like he might have appeared, and that Greckles was not an hideous monster, but was just really, really ugly.  


“Ditto that!” Borky said, before turning back to the others. “Man, it’s really gonna suck if we have to end up killing Beauford.”  


Everybody sighed and then turned back to the city of Alivast, their former home, now under the control of the United Clergy of Orun.


End file.
